Happy Thanksgiving! and My Thanks Especially

Thanksgiving is a wonderful holiday. If we can’t bless this thing into Orthodoxy… then we aren’t worth our salt! There is tradition here, there is “oneness” of spirit here, there is indeed a deep sense of gratitude for all the gifts of God, this new creation, and all that we have. And what could be easier then blessing a day of giving thanks to God?

So while I hear and respect the worries and concerns of those troubled by the paradox of a feast in the middle of the Nativity fast, in all truth, if indeed as Fr. Meletios Webber suggests, paradox is the heart of Orthodoxy, than what could be more natural? Let us simply bless it in to the Church, and let us do so with humility, without a sense that we are pained to do so, but with all love and giving of ourselves to a nation which gives and blesses us with so much. Have a prayer, offer thanks to God, to each of our brothers and sisters in Christ, and have some turkey!

Okay… in other news… this also happens to be my Saint’s Day: St. James the Persian aka “The Sawn Asunder”. I meant to post more on him for this today… and it is a measure of my unworthiness or at least my indolence and infirmities… and over-commitedness.. that I’m going to have to beg off until next year… or perhaps we might just suggest that I’m busy imitating my St. James’s less endearing ways… the backsliding ways that inevitably led him to fall to pieces. Lord have mercy!

And about blogging… uh… to quote President Vandercamp’s campaign slogan in Christopher Buckley’s new book which I’ve just finished (Supreme Courtship): I promise “More of the Same!” Yes, he didn’t want to get elected… but in the inifinte perversity of American politics… proceeds to do just that. So while I highly recommend the book (and not this blog post!), I do thank those who mistakenly encourage me in this blogging endeavor, and promise that all the “stuff” bouncing around in my head.. those unwritten pieces and not-ready-for-Prime-Time players will eventually make it out to the blogosphere. E-v-e-n-t-u-a-l-ly…. but these days, well… time calls elsewhere more than I would like… even if the fruits are… well… falling on seemingly fallow soil… or like just-planted seeds… just awaiting some water, sunshine and a little time.

Also will take this moment to thank all of you who read, but more to the point, bother to write here, elsewhere, or on your own blogs for all that you contribute. Imagine you don’t hear it often or even think very much of it, but there is a point where the postings in the blogosphere of ordinary Janes and Joes do make the otherwise seemingly impenetrable Orthodox world and Church seem far more do-able, far more approachable, and far more a part of the American Life than it might otherwise seem to those on the outside looking in. So thank you for all you do… in however much or however little you do it… for you made part of my journey, my start, and my continuance into an Orthodox Life…. however that project may be going…so far. So “nuff said… and before it gets r-e-a-l-l-y uncomfortable…

Anyone for some more potatoes?

In Case You Missed It…

In case you missed it, OCA has a new Metropolitan. I can’t believe it… but I’m excited about Metropolitan Jonah. Only three years ago, if I’d seen this word… this title… I would have assumed that somehow, some words got dropped. Like maybe when they say, “We have a new Metropolitan”… they forgot to add “Council” or “Police Cruiser”. But, no, I seem to know what it’s about now… which is either a measure of how far I’ve come, or how weird I am… or both… and like I said, I find this a joyful thing. … yeah… that applies both to my weirdness and the announcement. Hard to share with my non-Orthodox world… so I just have to settle for posting it here, there and everywhere.

And even though I’m Antiochian… which the same three years ago I would have figured was some sort of a board game (Parchesi, Pinnochle, Cannasta – all board games I can’t even spell ! much less play)…  I am thrilled. I mean the Metropolitan formerly known as Bishop Jonah, formerly known as Fr. Jonah, and now so formerly known that The Artist Formerly Known as Prince is himself quite  miffed but impressed with the hat…yes, this same Now Known as Metropolitan not long ago… was the author of a great piece in Again magazine, reprinted on his Orthodox Circle page, and then gave a talk at a parish retreat a year ago on the same subject: “Do Not React, Do Not Resent, Seek Inner Peace.” There are Five (5) parts but I think it amounts to a reasonable hour plus or so…. the whole of which is titled “The Path to Prayer”. I recommend it/them highly… except that just about everyone who’s likely to read this has probably already listened in… but “just in case you missed it”… it’s here over at Icon New Media Network.  I’d add that listening to this is even better than the written piece… as I think you’ll hear a humble Christian with a good sense of humor (I’m relistening – even as I write this).

Wisdom and Laughter from Elder Paisos

Wisdom and laughter often go together because they quickly unravel our pretenses. This seems the best sort. It may not change us as the combination often comes together in an instant, and unexpectedly… so without preparation. But like putting a bag of ice cubes out in the hot sun… it helps break things back into the bite-size pieces we can work on. Wisdom and tears by contrast seem to come together either as the result of deeper, more noticeable changes because they’re hard won, or maybe just the result of more studied reflection… and these seem to change us quite a bit more.

There is much more one could offer here, but my point was not to reflect so much… as to share one insight that made me laugh. This one is from “Elder Paisios of the Holy Mountain”, where he says:

“You should struggle while you are young, because when you get older you can do nothing; older people get annoyed even at the draft coming through a keyhole.”

It’s a great image: an old guy sitting in a corner as far away from the door as possible. And the first thing he says when you enter is, “Oh good… did you bring tape to cover up the key hole?” I don’t know… just seems like real life to me. Maybe you’d have to be there.

Anyway… perhaps it spoke to me ’cause once upon a time… not so long ago in fact, my kids taped two words to our bedroom door: I think one word said “Ornery” and the other… if I’m not mistaken said “Mules”. They found them in the newspaper. These are good words. I am glad they were not lost with the recycling… which clearly they so easily might have been. They rarely appear in the newspaper as well… which makes them all the more special. I know should I ever need to use these words… just where it is I can find them.  They’re treasures. And I guess our door is as good a storage place for words of this sort as any other. Feel free to drop by if you can use one or both. Now… surely you’re not thinking these words were.. well… descriptive some how… ’cause it never would have occurred to me. I mean… I think these word silos are everywhere. Right?

Harold the Unready

Okay. So Harold the Unready was this guy. Like he was long ago. So long ago they didn’t know his last name and just named him after his state of mind. They didn’t mind much at the time, but Harold kind of let it get under his skin that his brother Bob had a last name “All Right All Ready”. I mean, where do you go with that? Of course, you Act Up. Only back then it wasn’t a “Movement”… it just meant you did the teenage thing… ‘cuz, well… with wars, disease and other sorts of entertainment they had before television… you didn’t live much beyond twenty-something anyway. So everybody was unready for whatever, and Harold most of all.

But that’s not saying Harold was all that happy with this. He was thinking he probably wasn’t that kind of guy… just one of the folks. No, Harold wanted to be a somebody… something special. Skipped the school part… ‘cuz, well they didnt have much in the way of school back then… and he skipped the shoes part… ‘cuz sandals and barefeet were what you wore then. No… Harold wanted to be somebody who wasn’t unready like everyone else.. he kind of thought he wanted to be Super Ready… whatever that meant.

And since he didn’t know, Harold hired an agent, wiseman, or wise guy as they called them at the time. Agent Al said, “Harold, what you need is a new schtick. No it’s not a razor… so don’t get hyped ’bout the beard yet… but change, man… that’s your program. Fact is… we’re gonna make you a Change Agent.” Harold had seen all those illuminated manuscript programs – the PowerPoints of the day – and he knew. “Al’s on to something.”

So Harold listened. Then Al brought out the new idea: “Trumpets.” At least it wasn’t one of those stringy things with the hairy stick that sounded like… well we won’t go there. “And you’re gonna wear your hair in a bowl cut… and be in all-boy four piece band.” Weird thought Harold, but let’s see where he’s going with this. “And we’re gonna hang flags from the necks of these real long skinny trumpets.” Cool. Harold liked flags. Reminded him of Naschariot.

So Harold and the Boys started puckering… a skill they enjoyed practicing with their girl groupies in a slightly different venue… but one they nevertheless managed to perfect quite happily. And they pushed air through these puckerings like a congressman… and before you know it, when boofer hit brass… there was a blast heard round the world. And Harold and the Boys were the rock stars of the Recorder era – an era none of us seem to miss somehow. And their fame spread so far and wide that before anyone could spell Nebacannotnaysirorwhatever, their band was memorialized throughout the world in cartoons. And so Harold the Unready became “The Herald”… and some even Harken to this day..  but that’s a story to sail into another time.

For now, let us just Herald a new day… a new generation… and the passing of much that has ailed this great nation since the 1960’s. Those were great times, they were sad times, and they were divisive times too dismissive and too long ago. They are now gone perhaps at last. And as the nation moves on, perhaps we will see a new generation take up and address much that has long passed as irresolvable, irreconcilable and irrelevant. Maybe a generation that hasn’t fought each other and its forebears from the git-go can do what we could not. This would be my hope for my children and those yet to come.  And while there may be much that goes against my grain, there may equally be much that I know needs doing and these folks will do their best. I will remember that I am but one grain of sand and try not to grind in the works.  I am resolved to say “Goodmorning” rather than  let these things become an irritant to one or all when the time comes… but it may not prove easy as these indeed are tough times.. but have at it, my dear friends. Work your best. And may  God speed.

Well… I’ll Be Bloggone

Well… I’ll be bloggone… as in doggone. Thinkin’ ’bout makin’ the blog gone entirely and giving up the ghost as time seems to run shy more and more these days. But news of my blog’s demise, welcome as it may be… is likely premature. But the wonders of a byline and all the big bucks for the movie rights aside, an activity of this nature seems less and less clear as to what it’s about.

If it’s entertainment… well, maybe… but for whom? If it’s enlightenment… then this sure isn’t going to be much help. If it’s a record… then it ought to sing. As a Beatles fan… a guy who still appreciates John Lennon’s ethic of short, tight, crisply presented and generally upbeat, uptempo music…. I guess I find it fits… but it’s hard to manage. I’m no rock star….

No… in my case, this seems more a journal as it started, and remains. And as long as I’ve still got to work something out, I’ll keep at it. But as they say, “Life is very short my friend” and that seems more in mind than it used to be.

My wife says I work things out with my mouth… which… okay… I guess translates to going public with unfinished thoughts that in many cases are less “statements” than something more like ideas. It’s a habit from the sort of collaborative style of work I do… and it helps avoid sinking time into dead-ends and committing oneself to something before it gets “tested”… but I’m not sure a blog really serves this funciton all that well. But that’s sort of where it is…

But in all truth… I mean… if anyone ever wants to go collaborative, and approach I’ve seen fail here more often than work…. and I know I’m not the top of the list, but you could put me down as more interested in the roundhouse than the monologue. As for now, it’s a toss up whether to continue or “go native”.

When You Get to HotLanta… Say Hey to the High

Few weeks back… went to Atlanta for parents weekend. When number one daughter had to hit the books, we hi-tailed it down to the High Museum of Art. The Museum’s fancy people were having a music exposition out front to celebrate an anniversary of some sort, but we slipped in and managed our expensive way (entry sets you back $18) to see the materials on loan from the Louvre.

My mom was in tow and a bit disoriented by the mixing up of the materials… but I kind of liked the way the curator had approached things and forced you to actually visit parts of the museum and types of art you really didn’t intend to see. Kind of an accidental art tourist thing. So on the way to what I wanted to see… I saw some nifty nostalgic art deco appliances and some waste-of-time-you-call-this-art modern material which was enjoyable for its brevity if nothing else.  FWIW…I think my favorite modern art tends to have a sense of humor.

But the cool part for me… and why I mention it here… was the Byzantine statue of the Theotokos. I kid you not: an ivory statue of the Theotokos. Register that again: “A Byzantine statue of the Theotokos”. No, it was not Roman Catholic… Eastern Catholic, Uniate or whatever. It was Orthodox. And I’m none of the above either – though chrismated Orthodox, nor do I particularly have a thing for the three-D religious art – preferring icons now after getting over my former denom’s inhibitions. It’s just a stunning display of the contrast between what we as converts assume as norms and the actual diversity that’s out there somewhere… a manifestation if you will of the difference between Disneyland and the Real Thing… so of course Atlanta… the home of the Real Thing… is the place to see this.

Also on display are a number of ivory psalter book covers… the sort my Yugoslavian Byzantine iconography prof would have assured us served as the artisan’s source for the transition to the three-dimensional rep stuff. And of interest to me was the ivory bucket used for the asperges at the beginning of the liturgy. Carved from one ivory tusk and about as round, this Ottonian piece includes several Passion scenes and is worth a close look… again to see the Byzantine influence. As the West recovered from six centuries of poverty after the sack of Rome… renewed wealth brought desires to emulate the East… and naturally the dough to do so. If you’re not familiar with this material, it’s a refreshing insight to the consistency of images in the Church before the schism. Worth your time. Yes, you may be saddened to see these objects in a museum and discussed as artifacts rather than used in worship, or to read the museum’s own drivel about “the faithful” as if we were aborigines in some deep dark forgotten part of the world… but at least they aren’t lost to us… (even if we’re lost to the curators!).

Ant then the art from the Louvre… it is of course amazing and worth a visit in itself, pretty much self-explanatory… and you’ll love it. My only complaint was that I didn’t have enough time to take it all in and had to end with one of those skateboard run-throughs they say you have to use at the Louvre itself when you visit Paris. So if you’re nearby and have the time, go and enjoy.

Five-Love

Shortly after chrismation, I was blessed with the opportunity to serve as an Acolyte. In a Western Rite parish, this covers a fairly wide range of jobs from Epistler (Pipes) and Thurifer (Smokeman), Acolyte 1 (Bellman) and Acolyte 2 (Doorman). In a mission sized parish like ours, the shortage of folks pretty much means one of these jobs falls your way every weekend… unless you claim some sort of schedule “conflict” or leave town. While there’s a fair amount of doings to get down, the hardest part seems to lie in maintaining your body temperature at a level somewhere beneath 5000 degrees.

I imagine that if they ever make a movie of an Orthodox “crewe” of altar servers, it would star nothing but the young and the ever buff sorts that, in all truth, we surely are. Right. But to carry on with the fantasy for a moment, consider that “suiting up” would be presented as just another turn of the day for “Ace”, “Rocky”, “Mike” and “Nat” together with Father – who would of course also be young… and buff… but that movie’s not been made yet.  I’d call it “Five-Love” just for the numbers involved at the Altar… but surely someone’s got a better name out there. And no, Central Casting won’t be dropping by given that some of us still trip on the cassock, creak on our knees, and find ourselves generally puzzled at the conflict between matters of stagecraft, presence, and prayerfulness so long as our prayer remains for the Mother of God to help us get through another service without tripping too obviously on something or someone or other, without forgetting our place, without messing up someone’s worship… but instead managing to give our best in our supporting roles. No, we are not a “crack” team of well-drilled servers… but simply ordinary folks trying to “get ‘er done”.

Yet this service offers opportunities close to the altar to observe up close, to hear all the words and prayers as you listen intently for your next move – picking up many of the subtleties so often missed (and sometimes still missed), and to offer one’s own silent prayers and reflections in a way that melds with these as well to the Glory of God. It is a daily lesson in humility, in obedience, and service to the Church, to Father, and to the people that is worth better than we can give… and yet we give what we have. And through it we come to know our parish family, something of how they approach the Cup, how each offers their prayers, and we see not just the unity of our worship, but the tremendous diversity of God’s creation within us as well. God grants us to see things in this service… as in all services to God whether in the family, acts of charity and mercy, or beyond… that yield us much more than we might imagine. There is far more personality and consistency in these aspects of our worship lives than we see from our own eyes alone… and in this our need for our parish family really is all to plain.

Yesterday we celebrated a baptism of Katherine Davis, a beautiful, not-quite two-month youngster,  and so our parish family has expanded if just a bit. Doubling as Crucifer and standing behind the baptismal font next to the altar and the Celebrant in a literal ring side seat … there is not much that escapes the eye and ear. This was also our Feast of All Saints Day… so we had quite a litany before the exorcism and blessings of the waters and the beginning of baptism, quite some time to “warm up” and meld into the service, and quite some time to meditate on the meaning of baptism… from that of our Lord through our own, to this day and this child.

And as you look upon a child through this… it is hard as well not to see just the “old man”…. but the sense as well that the there really is a death of this old man through this water. Literally. For this day and this baptism the similarity between us at our birth and death was at once far more than otherwise…. as our all too evident fragility, fears, dependencies and surprise in these states… between infancy and old age, between those that we must help and hold, and those who trust in their continuance entirely to others… and ultimate acceptance of that which comes next… for there is simply no other choice. And whatever it is… does indeed come next… and whether life or death or somewhere in-between, come it will, cold and wet as the flushing of our past into a new, and warmer moment… even as we greet it with surprise, some tears, a cry or two, and perhaps a ceasing of struggle… at least for a time… as we are engrafted into the arms of our loving Father and passed into new life.

Those with subtler minds and softer hearts already know this, have sensed it from the beginning, and wondered how anyone could miss it. But here it is lived out, re-enacted, and plainly visible. Thanks be to God…. even those of us less atuned can finally see it here in Liturgy… and maybe carry that back with us to a newness in our own lives.

A Radical Idea for a Change (and Not!)

There’s a lot of advice out there on the net about the election. For my part, I have no idea whether what’s promised by anyone will lead to anything other than one day following the next just as it has pretty much done so far for all those days before hand. So I’ll leave more concrete thoughts on the event to others.

Instead, I will offer the notion that despite what may seem the case when we wake up to a winner on Wednesday, if “your guy” or the “other guy” (one day we might have more choices here, too) wins, it probably matters less than will seem the case at the time. Yes, the rhettoric and perhaps the symbolism definitely changes from one administration to another, but actions less so. So aside from a change on the society page, the late night comics’ jokes, and some of the other stuff that makes for the tenor of the times, there is less at stake than seems the case. Thankfully, in America, the mainstream tends to be wide and the tide runs both ways – eventually. On more than one occassion, I’ve had to counsel clients over the years not to panic and move money offshore due to unfounded fears regarding a prospective office holder with whom they disagree as there’s little sense either in feeding anti-Americanism here or abroad… or giving in to it.  And all appearances to the contrary, I’m sticking with that advice… no matter who gets elected. We tend to do best when we tend our own garden… even if it does get a bit overgrown, weedy and the like from time to time.

But better than that, I offer words from Archbishop Lazar Puhalo that while specifically addressing the background of systematic prayer and the prophetic ministry seem to echo the need for placing our political leadership in context and not letting ourselves get overwrought.

The hesychasts or holy men and women of any particular historical era are people with a prophetic ministry, a prophetic gift, who have seen the generation of corruption within the Church, a stepping away from an effective prayer life, and an abandonment of the Orthodox Christian system of prayer which we have by revelation. To say that they see some unique corruption in society would be rather utopian. There is always a corruption in society at large, as there was in Israel, in the Christian Roman Empire, including the Byzantine period of that empire. The prophetic ministry in Israel did not concern the world at large, but was concerned with the life of that nation which constituted, at that time, the Church of the living God. The prophetic ministry manifested by the appearance of the “holy men” in the life of the Orthodox Church has not concerned the life of the world at large, but rather has concerned that which impacts directly on the lives of the faithful within the Church. St. Symeon the New Theologian was not overly concerned about the civil society around him, but focused his prophetic ministry on the life of the Church, the monastic communities and hierarchs in particular. There is little use in criticizing civil society while the leaders in the Church are incapacitating the Church’s ability to minister to the world. Ultimately, the witness of St. Gregory Palamas was just as effective after the Turkish conquest as it had been before it. The leaders of civil society, the Paleologoi, Kantecuzene and the Serbian Tsar Stevan Dushan, in their overweening greed and lust for power, incapacitated what was left of the state and rendered it incapable of surviving the Turkish invasion, but the witness of St. Gregory Palamas and the hesychasts strengthened the inner life of the Church, the inner life of prayer of the faithful, and remained a force after the secular state, that pitiful remnant of the Eastern Roman or Byzantine Empire had ceased to exist. The rise of the holy man, usually from among the monastics, with a prophetic ministry, is a gift of grace to the Church. If it impacts at all on civil or secular society it is because this ministry has been heeded and re-enabled the Church to minister to the world in truth – not just the truth of words, but the truth of deeds and of the lives lived by the hierarchs and the people. This ministry is not manifested in histrionic sermons or angry moralist preaching, but in the transformation of the lives of the faithful and the manifestation of such transformed, even transsfigured, lives in the world. The core of this prophetic ministry, this prophetic teaching of these holy men and women, is prayer.

- Archbishop Lazar Puhalo from his: “Point of Faith Number 15: On Orthodox Christian Systematic Prayer”;  Synaxis Press, 1999.

If you feel so inclined, re-read the above substituting a few nation names, a few “groups”, a few leaders… and you could quite readily read today’s election into this. Least that’s how it struck me.